Romance is Almost Dead
by Pandastacia
Summary: Full-blown love, like an adrenaline rush, makes people act rashly. Draco is not smooth; Harry never thought he'd see the day. Harry-Draco!friendship with a side of Dramione. Prelude to Vast and Contained Infinities.


**Title:** romance is [almost] dead  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Harry Potter does not belong to me.  
><strong>Dedication:<strong> to Moon. I love you.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Full-blown love, like an adrenaline rush, makes people act rashly. Draco is not smooth; Harry never thought he'd see the day.  
><strong><strong>Notes:<strong> **Harry-Draco friendship with side Dramione. Prelude to _Vast and Contained Infinities. _Thank you for looking over this for my usual ridiculousness, Emily!

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

* * *

><p>"Bloody hell, Potter, watch where you point that thing, why don't you?"<p>

"You knocked my glasses off, you asshat. What'd you think was going to happen? It's like you thought I wear them for decoration."

"I'm pretty sure they have procedures for that sort of thing."

"Yes, Malfoy, a knife to my eyes. I totally want to do that."

"Well, it's rather conclusive that _glasses just aren't working for you_."

Harry was aware he was much calmer than his partner. Then again, he hadn't nearly lost the family jewels.

As it was, they were covered in burns and melting clothing. Some twits had decided smuggling baby dragons into the country was a great idea, though considering they were currently on the lam with their merchandise in Auror custody and their faces all over magical London, they were probably reconsidering.

"Let's get fixed up, yeah?" Malfoy muttered. He didn't look too happy with his new look. Probably because of the weather, Harry decided, more than the singed state of his sleeves - that is to say the lack thereof. Hermione would probably call it a rock star look.

Harry's nose and mouth twitched. Hopefully, it wasn't _her_ favorite shirt.

"Yeah, let's go." As usual, Harry grabbed Malfoy's hand and turned on the spot.

They squeezed and stretched in the space between places before appearing at their destination in a whip crack boom. Brick flats lined both sides of the street with barely any space between each house. Music blared from the other end of the block, some shitty rap that sounded just like any other shitty rap - nothing particularly interesting, though there were so many parked cars that there was only one lane straight down the middle.

Thank god for silencing charms.

Walking down the street, it took Harry a while to realize that Draco was way behind him. He turned around and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Draco, healing is this way."

Draco spoke slowly. "Potter, why aren't we at the hospital?"

"Thought we should go to the closest place to get fixed up."

"We _Apparated. Everywhere_ is the closest place."

"Hey, you team up with the Dark Lord, you lose Apparating privileges and get to go wherever I want to go. So what's got your knickers in a twist?" Harry asked as he shook the soot off his shirt. "Did you piss her off again?"

He looked sullen. "I just want a professional."

"Don't let her hear you say that. She passed the healer exam at St Mungo's."

"But she's _not_ a _healer_. She doesn't... work there. Practice. She's a hobbyist."

Leaning against a stair railing, Harry said, "You never complained before. In fact, you enjoy her... one-on-one treatment." He enjoyed that little tic - the best part of working with Draco, in Harry's opinion, though his capable skills were up there.

At the moment, Draco looked like a ferret torn between biting and running away, but he didn't do either. He came up to Harry, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, and mumbled something.

Harry cupped his hand around his ear. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I proposed to her this morning," Draco said. His shoulders were hunched around his ears, pale face glowing a little bit around his scowl.

Harry's elbow slipped against the iron railing and he found himself, rolling down the small set of stairs until he landed at Draco's feet. "_What_?"

"Yeah, well, she said no."

Harry blinked as he righted himself and sat on the bottom step. "I'd've thought she'd say yes."

"Yeah, well..."

He scrutinized Draco, realizing his bad mien all day had probably less to do with the near-castration and more to do with... "What'd you do?"

"Why must I have done _anything_? She's just uptight."

"That's not what you said last week."

"Hey - "

Prodding Draco's shoulder, Harry said, "See, if you didn't always flaunt your sex life around, I wouldn't be able to use that against you _and_ I would be able to sleep at night. We'd both win. Now, what happened?"

Draco reluctantly sat down next to Harry. "I got the ring from Mother - the one that's been passed down her side of the family for years..."

Harry winced, thinking of the absolutely... unique pureblood jewelry he'd borne witness to. The Gaunt ring had been... something. Quite something.

Draco looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What?"

"Oh, no, that's... that's a great first step." Harry nodded emphatically. "Go on."

"So I asked her to marry this morning."

Staring at him with his mouth open, Harry tried to think of what to say. Nothing came to mind. "... So... how?"

Shrug with a frown. "It's a question, so I asked her while she was taking a shower."

Harry looked over at the road and wondered how much it would hurt if he threw himself in front of a car, if it would get him out of the conversation. "... Were you in the shower?"

"No, she was in a rush this morning, so I asked her through the bathroom door."

... A car couldn't hurt more than this conversation, Harry concluded, so he pushed Draco up. "Just go over there and talk to her."

"I'm not a fucking Gryffinwhore."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means I consist entirely of self-preservation skills instead of bravery."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "This isn't about bravery. This is about - you love her, right?"

Glancing from side to side, Draco looked mildly constipated as he smoothed his hair down. "So what do I do?"

Harry shoved Draco off the step. He ignored the stream of creatively-constructed thanks, instead saying, "As a long-time student of Hermione Granger, I'd suggest asking for her help with all those burns, and then, as she's doing that, apologize for not putting enough thought into the proposal, and be more poetic next time. Romantic."

Draco had his arms crossed over his chest, despite the slight burns. He shivered a little in the wind that flew past. "That's all?"

HHarry stood and was ready to Apparate away, but he paused. "Hey, I'm not giving you advice on how to get her into the bed. She pretty much has that down on her own."

Draco pointed at him, scowling. "I'll have you know - "

Holding his hands up, Harry said, "I don't want to know."

"- we take turns on top."

"Whatever you say, Draco."

He turned to look at Hermione's apartment, then back at Harry. "Where are you going?"

"To the hospital, of course. Mate, I am not going to be there while you have make-up sex with my best friend." Harry laughed at the look on Draco's face before he let the in-between space swallow him again.


End file.
